


Handshake

by wingedkiare



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 15:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17769695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedkiare/pseuds/wingedkiare
Summary: Inspired by a New Yorker comic, of all things.  Where the teams are meeting up, and in the middle of all the "Good games" is an "I love you."  This came to mind.





	Handshake

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to @accidentallyshipping, who assured me that this was ready to share. My first foray into published hockey RPF, though I've been in the fandom for awhile.
> 
> As most might guess, set at the gold medal game from 2015 Worlds in Prague.
> 
> As always with RPF - if you see your name or the name of someone you know, best to just stop right here.

There are times that Zhenya hates the country he plays for. He leaves everything on the ice, and still, Team Russia comes up short. Usually because the coaches look down on him for fleeing Metallurg, still. So they won’t give him the chance to do everything he can.

The Canadians are celebrating, and it isn’t like he hasn’t seen Sid be this excited. It just isn’t usually when they aren’t on the same team. 

Sid’s often mumbled wishes that they didn’t have to play against each other, but they were always foolish. Childish, maybe. But he and Sid had practically spent more of their lives playing together than not. He did understand it. 

The handshake line seems endless, and it’s always hard when the other team is filled with joy, and all you can do is mutter good game.

Sid’s still a good distance away. He, like Zhenya, keeps sneaking looks down the line to see where the other is. And while Sid should be joyful, there’s a line of worry across his brow.

When they meet, Sid doesn’t say good game, like he had to the player ahead of him. He just stops. “G…”

Which might be why Zhenya quietly blurts, “I love you.” There’s nothing left to lose, not in this moment. Not with someone who obviously wants to find the right words.

Sid’s brows go sky high. “Me too. G.” He pulls him tight for a hug. “Fuck, find me before you leave.”

The lines have to keep moving. It’s unbelievably reckless to say something like that while wearing Russia’s colors, but Zhenya doesn’t care. The repeated refrain of good game is old by the time he gets to the end of the Canadian team, but he can’t stop watching Sidney as he waits for the medal ceremony. 

He can’t help wonder if that extra bounce Sid has isn’t just because he has triple gold. And, judging by the looks Sid keeps trying to sneak… maybe Zhenya’s right. It doesn’t take the sting of the loss away, but with a summer stretching out ahead of him, Zhenya can feel the hope that there’s something better ahead.


End file.
